


no grave can hold my body down (i'll crawl home to him)

by eversall



Category: X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Ghosts, M/M, Temporary Character Death, but not really, nobody is really dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-01
Updated: 2015-09-01
Packaged: 2018-04-18 10:31:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4702751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eversall/pseuds/eversall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You can take the ghost out of the man, but can you take the man out of the ghost?” Charles asks rhetorically after the fifth time Alex ends up running into a wall.<br/>.<br/>Alex is a ghost, but not dead, then Alex is not a ghost, and very much alive, and through it all - through it all Hank is still angry at him for leaving in the first place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	no grave can hold my body down (i'll crawl home to him)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry this whole fic was born out of a need to have ghostly Alex Summers hanging around Hank McCoy. I love these two so much they're the absolute best. Title taken from Work Song by Hozier.

“You can take the ghost out of the man, but can you take the man out of the ghost?” Charles asks rhetorically after the fifth time Alex ends up running into a wall.

.

Hank wouldn’t have even known that Alex was dead, honestly. The military kept spotty records at best and after all that shit, leaving them, leaving _him_ – well, he was angry enough to not really keep tabs on Alex.

He’s petty like that. So it comes as a real shock to him when he walks through the doors of his lab and sees a familiar leather jacket on a familiar blonde boy. Except the jacket and the blonde and the boy are all sort of pale and bluish, and Alex is most definitely trying to lounge nonchalantly against Hank’s desk but is failing because he keeps going _through_ the desk.

Because he is a ghost.

.

“I’m really sorry that you’re dead.” Charles says morosely.

“You’re _walking_.” Alex says, then, “I’m not _dead_.”

“I’m sorry?” Erik says, appearing out of nowhere.

“ _Jesus_ Christ.” Hank says, reflexively slapping a hand to his glasses. If he’s learned anything, it’s that in a fight glasses shouldn’t be kept on. Erik appears, and fight reflexes kick in; ergo, he reaches for is glasses so he can tuck them away somewhere safe.

“I’m sorry, how can you be a ghost but not dead?” Erik continues, still with that ridiculous fucking helmet on. Hank wants to take the damn thing and rip it apart slowly, with his claws. Its existence has probably started this whole thing, way back when it fell into Shaw’s hands, because if it weren’t for the helmet Charles could have solved _all the problems_.

“I’m not dead.” Alex repeats. “Just…currently indisposed otherwise.”

“Do you think being a ghost is a minor inconvenience that you can just work with?” Hank asks incredulously.

“Maybe.” Alex pauses and squints at Erik. “Isn’t he the bad guy?”

“I’m turning over a new leaf.” Erik announces. Rather pompously, Hank thinks. But the whole good guy thing really turns Charles on. Hank only knows this because with his heightened senses he can smell the arousal leaking off both of them and it’s obnoxious, especially now, with Alex and his stupid ghostly jackets and his stupid bad boy smirk that _still_ does things to Hank which is entirely not fair because Alex is _dead_ and Hank is still, stupidly, pettily angry at him for leaving.

.

“I’m really not dead.” Alex tries again, later in the lab. Charles and Erik are upstairs hashing out the whole villainy versus whatever the hell it is Charles wants to do with mutants, and Hank is downstairs looking at the neat rows of test tubes he’d previously laid out. He doesn’t have a single clue as to what he was working on before Alex appeared, because now that Alex is here all he can remember is the long-ago warmth of Alex’s hands at night, when they’d laughed and stumbled out to the lake because no one could catch them there.

“But you _are_.” Hank says, looking at him. He still looks good, unfairly attractive, even when everything’s blue. “Blue is a good color on you.”

“It’s more your style anyway.” Alex says easily, and Hank growls because he hears the unspoken _beast_ at the end. Alex liked to call him that, to remind him that he’s got that side. Alex _liked_ that side. “But dude, I can show you my body. It’s still breathing and stuff.”

“You couldn’t have mentioned that _before_!” Hank yells at him, and it’s not really a question because Hank knows Alex has a single-track mind and is actually pretty laid-back underneath all that guilt over his mutation.

That guilt is long gone now. Hank figures the army must have burned it out of him. There’s a hell of a lot more guilt to find in Vietnam, and Hank has no doubt Alex was smart enough to figure out his own moral ground while he was there.

.

Hank leaves the next day to find the body, and Alex goes with him. Erik and Charles stand on the front porch like parents sending their kids off to college and wave at them until they turn the corner.

“So how did you die?” Hank asks, clutching the steering wheel tightly as Alex fights to solidify himself against the passenger side seat.

“I don’t know. I passed out there and when I woke up I was like this. So I left my body.” Alex says. “It was pretty strange.”

“Weren’t you scared?” Hank asks at last.

The very small, secret part of him that he keeps locked up tight has been whispering for days now. If Hank were being honest with himself, he is terrified that Alex is really dead. But he pushes those thoughts away, the hole in his chest that aches with the absence of Alex Summers.

“A little.” Alex admits after a few seconds. He twists to look at Hank. “I thought of you and started walking and whatever shit it was that was guiding me led me straight to you.”

“To the mansion.” Hank says, steadfastly ignoring Alex’s piercing eyes. “It led you to the mansion.”

“Why are you doing that?” Alex asks, frustration evident in his voice. Hank doesn’t respond, so after a while Alex doesn’t say anything either except to guide them to the right roads.

.

They check into a shitty motel at night where Hank can’t think up of a good enough excuse for asking for two beds for one person. The room ends up having one tiny mattress.

“This isn’t a problem. I’m a ghost.” Alex says confidently as Hank pulls on one of his old sweaters.

“But you’re not dead.” Hank says, shivering and climbing into bed.

“No.” Alex says, hovering on the edge of the sheets, uncertain suddenly. “Hank, do you want me to be dead or something? Cause that’s kind of being an asshole, you know?”

“Alex.” Hank whispers, reaching across the space between them to pass his fingers through Alex’s transparent ones. “I can’t even hold your hand, let alone deal with the fact that you _left_ me.”

Alex’s face is _heartbroken_.

“I’m barely keeping it together too.” he says, his voice raw. “It would be fucking great if I could just have _my_ Hank McCoy back to help me freaking _deal_.”

“Its years too late to be manning up and admitting I’m yours’.” Hank says tiredly. Alex opens his mouth, but Hank beats him to it.

“Alex, please.” He says, hating that his voice sounds needy, “I can’t deal with you being dead or almost dead or ever even close to dead. I – I just. I can’t. I want to be upset at you for leaving and assume that one day you’ll come back with some stupid girl or boy on your arm. I don’t – I don’t want to be upset at you for being _dead_.”

Alex makes a pained noise and they just look at each other for a long moment. Hank can’t breathe because even as a ghost Alex’s eyes are unflinching in their emotion.

Eventually they settle down, with Hank taking up most of the bed and Alex sort of just floating around. Hank sleeps, but he’s pretty sure Alex is just watching him.

.

It was ages ago – years ago, actually. It’s been years. But one night after training, pre-Cuba, pre-everything, Raven had said something stupid about Hank and his feet and accepting himself and Hank had just not cared very much about what _she_ had to say because she was good-looking and used her sex appeal like a tool. He’d retreated to the lab and Alex had followed him.

“Maybe you don’t care,” Alex had said, voice low and hoarse, eyes downcast, “but you’re gorgeous, McCoy. You’re – you’re really fucking hot. So don’t – don’t.” He’d finished. And that was – well.

Hank had been awkward and unsure of himself, not used to having so many people around that he could consider friends, and he’d been wanting Alex with a feral ferocity he was unused to. It was a little bit unfair, because Alex was not only an asshole but he was funny and not at all dumb and listened to Hank talk about science and made him feel like someone important. They were friends, and Alex Summers had made Hank want _badly_.

So it was natural to go from that to kissing Alex, to pushing him against the wall (but gently) and biting his lip and relishing the little groans he made. Alex had been solid against him then, and Alex had been solid later that night when they snuck out. Unlike now, where Alex is transparent and gets a little hazy in Hank’s vision if he stares too long.

.

They set out again in the morning, and the silence between them is obvious but not too uncomfortable; if anything, it’s an old silence.

“So.” Alex says after a while, “What have you been working on while I was gone?”

And Hank knows that he’s genuinely curious. Alex has never made small talk with him, has always ensured that Hank knows Alex respects him. He’s – he’s a good man, despite all of Hank’s misgivings.

So Hank talks. And Alex listens. It feels like a tentative beginning, and something in Hank’s chest aches in a good way.

.

It takes them two days, but they find Alex’s body. Hank is just walking through a forest, and Alex is focusing on directions, when suddenly Alex just stops and so does Hank and there, laid out in front of him, is the cold, nearly lifeless body of Alex Summers.

And Hank just _loses_ it.

He makes a broken noise and sinks down onto his knees, running his hands lightly over Alex’s face. Alex the ghost is watching him anxiously as he takes in the unnatural paleness of the body, the coldness. Alex was never cold. Alex felt like he had a high fever on a good day, before he used his powers.

He doesn’t realize he’s crying until the hot tears land on the body in front of him, and suddenly he is full out weeping as Alex the ghost flutters nervously around him repeating Hank’s name like a mantra and all Hank can think is what if this doesn’t work? What if you leave me forever?

Because that is _Alex_ on the ground, and Hank’s heart is being ripped out of his chest as he suddenly considers his life without the blonde boy and it is tearing him apart. He can’t live through that. He can’t.

.

“So you’re okay now, right?” Alex asks him cautiously on the road back.

“Yes.” Hank says, wrinkling his nose. “I have a dead body in my trunk.”

“Oh my god.” Alex says. “I’m _not_ dead.” It’s true. Alex’s body is actually still breathing. Hank isn’t sure what strange magic went into separating Alex from his body; all he cares about is reuniting the two.

“Alright.” Hank concedes. “I have a _body_ in my trunk. Does that make it any better?”

“ _No_ , you serial killer, don’t use that tone.” Alex grumbles.

“I can’t help it.” Hank says, quietly determined. “I’m going to get you back, Alex, if it’s the last thing I do.”

.

They had had sex that night, years ago, at the lake. While Charles and Erik flirted in the mansion and Raven and Sean had some strange drinking contest, Alex had tugged Hank down by his collar, laughing, and twisted sinuously against him.

“ _Jesus_ ” Hank had managed to gasp out, “Your _hips_ Alex – oh, fuck – oh – they should be _illegal_ – “

And Alex had laughed again as Hank kissed him messily, looking up at him as they fucked with a sort of unabashed awe. It’s that look that Hank missed the most when Alex left for Vietnam – sweet and trusting with definite bedroom eyes thrown in.

.

It takes Hank two weeks. Two weeks of frustrating dead ends and tearing his hair out and destroying several lab tables in his anger, but Hank figures it out and puts Alex back in his body.

There’s a heartbeat of a second where Alex’s chest rises and falls and then doesn’t at all, where Charles and Erik are looking on worriedly and Hank is gripping the table tightly with his _claws_ , because Alex isn’t breathing –

But it breaks and Alex sits up, coughing, and Hank doesn’t care how embarrassed Alex is – he scoops the shorter boy up and cradles him to his chest. Alex, to his credit, doesn’t say anything, just throws his arms around Hank’s neck and smirks into his lab coat.

.

Hank is still angry.

“I don’t understand how you can still be mad.” Alex says, sitting on the sofa in the lab. Every time he leans against something solid or sits down Alex does it twice, as if checking to see he’s not still a ghost. It’s amusing.

“I – do you remember, what I said to you when you told us you enlisted?” Hank asks, putting down his pipette.

“I was drafted-“

“Shut up,” Hank says with feeling, “we both know I took our names out of the draft. We had our own battle to fight, Alex, and you _abandoned_ it.”

“I found a different one in Vietnam, Hank.” Alex says lowly, picking at a loose thread on his jeans. “Maybe I shouldn’t have left, but – it was the right thing to do. I had too.”

“For your country, Alex?” Hank says, laughing bitterly. “For the country that couldn’t keep you and Scott together and were going to experiment on you?”

“Leave Scott out of this!” Alex yells, standing up now. “What do you know about making hard decisions, Hank? You’ve run away from everything your _whole_ life. There was a _war_ on your doorstep and you and Charles fucking _hid_ in this mansion. You’re a goddamn _coward_ , McCoy.”

They’re both breathing hard and Alex is in front of Hank now, eyes angry and eyebrows slanting down. Hank is furious and broken and lost; he feels vindictive and defensive all at once.

“I _protected_ the children.” Hank says quietly. “I stayed behind to _help_.”

“I _left_ to help.” Alex say, pleading. “I remember what you said, Hank. Of course I remember.”

“Really?” Hank asks.

“I held those words to my fucking heart, every day.” Alex steps away from him, tired. “Things were always shitty in Vietnam, but I thought – of you, and the kids you were no doubt helping and Scott, and  - you, saying you loved me. It got me through every single day. I  - I was always going to come back Hank. To you, to the school. But, um,” he fidgets, “mostly I was always going to come back to you.”

.

Alex told Hank that he enlisted on a warm sunny afternoon, after they’d traded lazy hand jobs by the lake. He’d kissed down all of Hank’s pleas for him to stay.

A week later, when Alex had said all his goodbyes, Hank had clung to him and whispered, _you fucking asshole, I fucking love you and you’re leaving me_ , and Alex had whispered, after a stunned silence, _goodbye Hank_ , and that had been the last things they’d said to each other.

.

“I love you.” Alex says now, “I love you, and if you could maybe tell me you love me again without all those expletives in the sentence like you did when I left, that would be great.”

Hank can’t breathe again and he wants to punch the stupid half smile that’s sitting on Alex’s face but he settles for saying, angrily, “I love you, of course I love you” and dragging Alex in for a bruising kiss.

Alex pulls away, laughing, and slides his hand down Hank’s back, sending frissons of _want_ through Hank.

“Maybe try again, sounding a little less mad?” Alex says, and Hank grins because Alex is enjoying this too much and it’s a little impossible not to be, because Alex is alive and warm in his arms and they love each other – how can it get any better?

(The only way it gets better is when Hank pushes Alex down onto the couch and Alex moans as Hank licks and bites his way across Alex’s collarbones and the lines of his chest; when Hank prepares Alex one finger at a time, torturously slow, just to see Alex twist his hands in Hank’s hair and beg for more; when Hank finally finds himself inside Alex and Alex is moaning and twisting and saying, over and over again, _I love you, I love you, I love you_.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT: now you can find me on [ tumblr!!! ](http://eversall.tumblr.com/) i know, you're SO excited *sarcasm*


End file.
